


Shadow of a Doubt

by EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12



Series: January: 31 Days Challenge [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: BAMF Bail Organa, Blood, Brief Mind Control, Is Bail Organa Force Strong?, Memory Loss, Murder Contemplation, No intentionally written as BailObi but you do you, Obi-Wan Kenobi Whump, Planet Zigoola (Star Wars), Seduction to the Dark Side, Sith Temples (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28604088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12/pseuds/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12
Summary: “Anakin,” The repeated word angered him now, though he couldn’t say why.He could kill this man. Wanted to kill him. He needed something, a weapon of some kind. He lifted his hands.He could kill him with his hands. Choke the life from him until he stopped saying that word.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Bail Organa
Series: January: 31 Days Challenge [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089257
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Shadow of a Doubt

**Author's Note:**

> Piece I've been wanting to write for a while! :) 
> 
> As always, hope you enjoy! Please R and R, let me know what you think 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at the same name

Bail scrambled backwards, losing traction on the slick stones, feeling a rock slice into one of his palms and blood start to slick his fingers. “Master Kenobi!”

But there was no response. The sound echoed off of the walls of the temple they were in, reverberating in continuous chant until the sound of his voice was low and twisted and distorted and the words sounded like nothing. It was never-ending, only joining the constant, incessant voices that clung to the walls. Screams and whispers, shouts hushed voices, cries of agony, death rattles of lives extinguished long before some planets had even existed. And now he was part of it.

Some part of him, hidden beneath layers of his mind that had been yet untapped, knew not to shout again. That the less of him that lingered behind here, the better. But he wanted to shout again. Something was pulling words form him. Desperation perhaps, as he watched the scene in front of him unfold. But something else, too; something tantalizing, right outside of his grasp. It wanted him to stay here, he and Master Kenobi both. It wanted him to speak, until his voice had been absorbed into the walls. And he wanted to do, so badly that the words hung on his lips.

But what he was watching kept him silent. It was Master Kenobi, or at least, whatever remained of the Jedi that he knew. He was standing, stone still eyes open and fixed on nothing in the space between them. All around, him, in a writing, black mass were thick tendrils, shrouded in darkness. They were silent, not even making a whisper as they circle around him. His legs were already surrounded, anchoring him in place, as the tentacles continued to climb their way over his body. One shot upwards from the floor, hitting so hard and fast against his skin that it cut through his robes like they were paper and Bail watched as droplets of blood hung in the air for a moment too long before they splattered into the mess.

It didn’t phase him. He didn’t move or jerk away from the pain or from the next that did the same skin splitting strike across his abdomen. Then his back Then the first end of one started to stretch across his face. But as it did, his lips started to move.

He couldn’t hear the Jedi; his voice did not join the rabble of them and even as he strained his ears to listen, he could hear nothing at first. It grew louder and louder, the words coming into broader focus. There were pauses, blips in the sequence. Bail wanted to speak, wanted to ask him to repeat what he was saying. Something nudged him towards and he opened his mouth, his legs moving to go towards the man, towards where he knew he was supposed to be.

“Anakin,” That word was familiar, but he didn’t know why. It felt like a person he knew, or perhaps a place he had been. It stopped him from speaking, but he finished standing. Where there had been resistance earlier, and pain from the loose rocks, there was now a peace. He was doing the right thing. He was sure of it.

“Anakin,” The man standing in front of him said again. It was less familiar now. He had made a mistake. He did not know an Anakin. The man’s eyes were sightless, staring right through him as he approached. Black tendrils curved over his skin, crushing it to his bones until they split. He thought he might know this man or had known him once, long ago. He could ask him.

“Anakin,” The repeated word angered him now, though he couldn’t say why. He could kill this man. Wanted to kill him. He needed something, a weapon of some kind. He lifted his hands. He could kill him with his hands. Choke the life from him until he stopped saying that word.

“Anakin,” The man said again, this time more insistent. The black tendril that had snaked across his face started to shrink. He looked at his hands now, hovering in front of him, inches from the man’s throat. And stopped.

“The Jedi will survive,” The man said now, and the rest started to shrink back away from him. His eyes, glazed white, started to flood again with color. Blood, smeared from his skin to his robes sprayed into the air between them as they retracted.

“The force is with me,” The Jedi said. Jedi. This man was a Jedi.

All around him came the whispers, pouring into and over his mind like rushing water. His head throbbed with them, pulsing all around him. He fell to his knees. And in a moment, the man feel alongside him as the black vines that had wrapped around his legs snapped and vanished.

“Master Kenobi,” He breathed, recognition coming back to him. Kenobi didn’t speak. The whispers were gone. Instead exhaustion took its place. They had to get out of here. Out of this temple. Off of this planet. He looked up again expecting to see the Jedi’s eyes into his. And he did, for the briefest instant before he fell forward, and Bail was holding them both, in a pile there on the stone.

He felt blood seeping into the front of his robes, the severity of the wounds underneath unclear. He closed his eyes, the exhaustion sweeping in rolling waves now. They had to get out of here. But he was tired. So tired. Wrapped in a cloak of seeping fatigue. "Master Kenobi," He said again, trying to rouse his companion. But there was no answer. Perhaps it was best to sleep here first. Gain strength back here on the stones. 

"Bail," Came the final, soft reply seconds before he felt himself slipping. "Bail, please." 

He opened his eyes. They had to leave this place.


End file.
